


Yule Never Feel Like You're Alone

by godblessnhoran (Clojo1498)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gryffindor Harry, Gryffindor Liam, Happy Ending, Harry Potter AU, Hufflepuff Niall, I love Niall Horan, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Miscommunication, Pining, Quidditch, Slytherin Louis, Slytherin Zayn, cauldron cakes, louis is pretty, there are lots of familiar faces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clojo1498/pseuds/godblessnhoran
Summary: In which Harry is terribly obvious, Louis is horribly oblivious, and Niall, Liam, and Zayn are just in it for the Cauldron Cakes. A Harry Potter AU featuring miscommunication, an unnecessarily excessive amount of pining, and oblivious boys in love, all just in time for the Yule Ball.





	1. The Boy and the Firework

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely people! 
> 
> Thank you for even clicking on the link to this fic, I'm pretty sure nobody's gonna read it but if you're reading this sentence then you have exceeded my expectations. Thank you.
> 
> Okay, SO I'm a piece of shit who (due to unforeseen circumstances) disregarded the spring fic exchange deadline, so to the lovely person provided the prompt, I promise I'll find you on tumblr and hit you up with this very late fic. I hope I did it justice. Also, I'm sorry because I know you said Ravenclaw!Louis but it goes against my very being to write Louis as anything other than a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, so he's a Slytherin, but I really tried to stick to everything else!!
> 
> Surprisingly, I've been in this fandom for 5+ years, and this is the first One Direction fic I've ever written. 
> 
> Hope it's okay! If you can get through the first 500 words, I promise it gets better.
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> Clodagh xx

If Harry were to compile a list of all the things he was terrible at, subtlety would be scrawled over the top of the parchment in bright red ink.

Years of distractedly shattering teacups and receiving pointed coughs could certainly attest to that. But it wasn't his fault, really, when Louis Tomlinson was a firework in the form of a teenage boy, lighting up Harry’s universe. His dazzling persona captured every inch of Harry’s attention, and Harry certainly couldn’t be blamed if he dropped a cup or two after being on the receiving end of a signature Tommo wink.

Fortunately for what remained of Harry’s dignity, he wasn’t the only one utterly captivated by the Slytherin boy. Louis had marched into Hogwarts as a first year, unabashedly loud and seemingly fearless as he chatted animatedly with the Sorting Hat in front of the entire school for a quarter of an hour. Everyone present was instantly charmed by his quick wit and dancing blue eyes, and unsurprisingly, mass admiration for the boy only grew over his years at school. Harry would have denied the existence of structural popularity among the school’s student body, but even he could admit that if there was ever a Golden Boy at Hogwarts, it was Louis Tomlinson. Even the teachers had a soft spot for Louis, despite the minor chaos he caused with delight in class.

Harry’s adoring gaze blended in with those of hordes of other students, so he wasn’t the least bit surprised that Louis never seemed to truly notice him. He’d eventually discovered that he and Louis had mutual friends, and they’d even gone to Hogsmeade in the same group once or twice, but still, they’d never even had a one-on-one conversation.

And Harry was determined to fix that.

Unfortunately for him, their interests, and consequently, their schedules, couldn’t have been more different. Louis was the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team and spent his free time flying around the pitch, while Harry was Hogwarts’ current Wizard’s Chess champion, and was likely to be found holed up in the library with his nose in a book. Outside of class, they rarely saw each other.

Harry did at least _try_ to have something in common with the Slytherin boy. In his second year, he’d attempted to learn how to fly a broom in hopes of eventually joining the Gryffindor team, but one fractured wrist and a bruised ego later he was forced to conclude that some things (namely, himself) weren’t meant to leave the ground.

After that, he’d tried to capitalize on his class time interactions.

He secretly prided himself on his knack for charms and spells, and would wait until he thought Louis was looking in his direction to cast whatever incantation he was attempting, hoping that his skill might be enough for the blue-eyed boy to find him interesting. It didn’t work; Louis occasionally looked on with curiosity, but he was no sooner going to approach Harry than he would have before. 

Realizing that that particular tactic was misguided, Harry instead tried intentionally forgetting his parchment and quill, simply so that he would have to ask a certain Slytherin for a spare. This plan worked quite well actually, until Harry realized that he could only ask so many times before he began to look too desperate.

In fifth year, he mustered up the courage to send an enchanted love note during transfiguration. However, he was so nervous he pointed his wand the wrong way and the parchment sparrow he had constructed fluttered onto Caroline’s desk instead. Too embarrassed to explain who the note had really been for, Harry had gone out with her for a full two weeks.

So, after one too many failed attempts to get Louis to notice him, Harry had simply given up hope and settled for admiring from afar. Seven years of resigning himself to longing stares had brought him to potions class, absentmindedly prodding a spare sprig of fluxweed with his quill, while he gazed, transfixed, at soft caramel skin framed by striped emerald silk and wisps of lilac steam.

He was vaguely aware that his curls were beginning to frizz from the haze of magenta fog rising from the bubbling cauldron, but couldn't bother to make anything of it when Louis was the manifestation of moonlight just three rows in front of him.

" _Harry_!" Liam's strained whisper was accompanied by a sharp elbow to the side. Harry let out an _oof_ and tore his eyes away from the artfully tousled mop of hair.

"Wha-wh—"

"You've gone and turned the bloody potion pink!" His distressed friend hissed while flipping frantically through his battered textbook. "The book says it should turn an emerald green after you add the porcupine quills!"

"Shit, sorry!" Harry apologized, fumbling to stir the bubbling potion. He cringed when he felt the ladle fuse to the glutinous substance. "Oops." He prodded the fuchsia sludge defeatedly and gagged as the stench of rotten eggs wafted from the cauldron. "Eurgh, that's rank. I'm really sorry, Liam."

Liam sighed, abandoning his futile search for a remedy to stare sadly at the unredeemable slop. "It's fine, mate. What the hell happened?"

Under Liam’s fixed attention, Harry felt heat rush to his cheeks, suddenly finding himself unable to tell Liam exactly why he'd inadvertently butchered their potion. "I, uh, got distracted."

From the adjacent desk, Niall snorted, earning a sharp glare from Harry. Harry was perfectly aware that his obsession with the Slytherin boy wasn't well concealed by any means, but that didn't mean Niall had to run his loud mouth about it in the such close proximity to said boy. The Irish boy wasn't deterred by withering looks, however.

"Yeah, you're distracted alright." Niall said with a glint in his eyes, gesturing knowingly to the spot Harry had been staring and ignoring Harry's squeak of protest. "Tell me, Harry, do you think if you stare at him enough, Louis'll—"

Whatever Niall had been about to say next regarding the Slytherin boy was cut off as Harry lunged across the aisle to knock his arm down and clamp his hand over his mouth.

"Niall!" He squawked. "Shut up!"

Niall shook with laughter underneath Harry's grip, which only tightened when the blonde boy began to chant something that sounded suspiciously like "Harry and Louis sitting in a tree".

"Niall," Harry hissed, "if you don't shut up right this second I swear I'm going to make it my life mission to permanently lock you in a broom cupboard with Peeves!"

Niall only guffawed, coating Harry's palm with a layer of saliva, and attempted to shout what probably would have been "K-I-S-S-I-N-G" if Harry hadn't grabbed hold of the Hufflepuff's blonde hair and tugged. In his haste, Harry certainly hadn't accounted for the red sparks that jetted from Niall's wand, nor the sudden presence of a looming figure behind them.

"Mr. Styles, do we have a problem?"

Harry paled, slackening his iron grip on Niall, who slumped back into his seat with a delighted grin. He slowly turned to face Professor Cowell's disapproving stance.

The entire class blinked back at him, including, Harry realized with a sinking stomach, a pair of familiar blue eyes. He straightened hastily, trying to subtly wipe Niall's slobber onto his robes.

"Uh, no, Professor. There's no problem." Harry cringed at his own unsteady voice.

"I won't have this behavior in my classroom. I don't care what issues you and Mr. Horan here have, I expect better."

Harry nodded, his face flaming as he studied the cracks in the stone floor. "Yes, sir."

Beside him, Niall was still chuckling to himself and Harry made a mental note to strangle the boy later.

"And that'll be 5 points from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."

A groan arose from the maroon and canary yellow clad students, one which was silenced by a icy look from Professor Cowell. From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Louis lean over and whisper into Zayn's ear with a quiet laugh, and he flushed with embarrassment when Zayn turned to look at him with an amused expression. However, the exchange didn't go unnoticed.

"Something to add, Mr. Tomlinson?"

Louis' eyes flashed up, catching Harry's wide eyes instead of the cold glare of their expectant teacher. Harry's heart began to pound rapidly as Louis held his gaze, and he willed himself not to blink or burp or do anything else embarrassing. Holy shit, Louis' eyes were blue. Like, _really_ blue. They stared at each other, the silence of the classroom around them deafening.

"No, sir," Louis said easily, and by now Harry had forgotten what the question had been in the first place, because Louis was _still_ staring straight at him with a smirk on his gorgeous face, and then suddenly he winked and Harry's existence imploded with an enormous bang. Niall's puke green concoction exploded, splattering in all directions and Harry's haphazardly extended wand clattered to the ground, now emitting a cloud of azure smoke.

Harry slowly raised his head, horrified.

Professor Cowell stood in the middle of the classroom, splattered in a layer of thick green moss and looking positively murderous. The veins in his neck stood out even from under the wooly herbage, and Harry gulped at the loud snap of the quill splintering in his teacher’s clenched fist. “Professor, I—”

"Let's make that _20_ points from Gryffindor,” Professor Cowell said through clenched teeth, clearly attempting and failing to maintain his calm demeanor. “Three from Slytherin because I have a feeling you had something to do with this, Mr. Tomlinson, and a detention for you, Mr. Styles."

He picked a piece of moss from the tip of his upturned nose, glaring at the offending plant with a hatred he usually reserved for late students. “And I expect to have this classroom spotless by my next class.”

He whipped his wand through the air, and he was suddenly vegetation-free. Lifting his chin, he fixed his glare on Harry. “And no magic, Mr. Styles.”

Harry nodded numbly, and sat down, absolutely mortified. One brave glance toward the Slytherin boy in front of him revealed that Louis' eyes were wide with shock but he was fighting an amused grin. Laughing at Harry probably, not that Harry would blame him.

"You know, you could have just used _Langlock_ to shut Niall up in the first place." Liam said reasonably as he picked stray clumps of moss from Harry's curls. Harry just groaned and buried his head in his arms, praying for death to inevitably take him.

 

*

 

It had been two days since the ‘Great Potions Disaster’ (as Harry had titled it in the midst of his woe), and Niall, Zayn, and Liam were squished comfortably into a nook in the library, snacking on contraband licorice wands and cauldron cakes the Irish boy had smuggled in from Hogsmeade. Still fresh in their minds, the topic of Harry's little pining problem was brought to attention.

"Alright lads," Niall said, straightening up and brushing stray crumbs from the folds of his cloak. "I can't be alone in thinking that we need to stage an intervention."

“An intervention?” Liam laughed. “For what?”

“Hazza’s obsessive crush. It’s killin’ me, lads.”

"Oh, come on, Niall, it can't be _that_ bad," Zayn protested, flicking Niall’s shoulder with a licorice wand. “Who does he even fancy anyway?”

Both boys looked at him incredulously, and Liam let out a little strangled laugh. “Are you joking?”

The Slytherin boy raised an eyebrow, shrugging.

“Are you _blind_ , Zayn?” Niall yelled, ignoring Madame Pince’s reproachful ‘ _shhh’_ from somewhere behind the shelves. “ _Louis_!”

Zayn blinked. “What about Louis?”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Zayn, you ignoramus, Harry’s frickin’ in love with Louis!”

Zayn stared, slack-jawed. “No. Fucking. Way.”

"Yes, way. Really, it's painful to watch, mate." Niall shook his head sadly, grabbing the licorice wand weapon that had since stilled in Zayn’s shock and shoving the entire thing in his mouth. "Yesterday, he accidentally singed the end of his eyebrow off during charms because Louis bent over to pick up a teacup."

“You’re _joking_.”

“Zayn,” Niall said, placing his hands on either side of his friend’s face and batting his blue eyes innocently. “Would I lie to you?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then, since we’re apparently disregarding our 6 wonderful years of friendship, would _Liam_ lie to you?”

Zayn looked to Liam with raised eyebrows.

“It’s true, yeah.” Liam laughed, shaking his head at Zayn’s dumbfounded expression. “Honestly, I can’t believe you didn’t notice it before. Are you really that shocked? What’d you think caused the potions debacle?”

Zayn choked on a laugh, eyes wide. “Lads, I think we’ve been presented with a wonderful opportunity.”

Niall sighed, reaching for the last cauldron cake. “What are you on about?”

“Louis,” Zayn said, grinning. “Louis fancies Harry.”

There was a moment where everything was silent save for the dull thunk of Niall’s cake hitting the ground. Then both boys screamed, “WHAT?”

At this eruption, Madame Pince hobbled into view, waving her finger accusingly. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. Might I remind you that this is a _library_! And is that _food_ I see on my floor?”

Sheepishly handing over what remained of their snacks and vanishing away the mess they’d made on the ground, the boys assured her that they would be quiet. They waited until she’d ambled out of earshot before turning to each other in a strained whisper.

“We _have_ to tell them.” Liam insisted, positively giddy with excitement.

Niall absentmindedly wagged his finger in dismissal, his eyes suddenly alight with the prospect of so many possibilities. “No, that won’t work. Knowing Harry, he won’t believe us, and if Louis makes a move after that Harry’ll think it’s just out of pity.”

“Poor kid. It's not his fault Lou's about as observant as a tea cozy."

“We could just tell Louis that Harry fancies him, couldn’t we?” Liam suggested hopefully. “And let him make the first move?”

“Or we could send Harry love letters addressed from Lou. Better yet, we could just slip them both love potions!”

“Zayn, that’s _illegal_!”

“Only if you get cau—”

“Boys, you’re going about this all wrong.” Niall cut them off, shaking his head exasperatedly. “These things require a little more strategy and patience.”

“Oh, and you’re the great matchmaker here, are you now, Niall?”

“Oi,” The Irish boy crossed his arms, affronted. “Cara and Annie are disgustingly in love thanks to my superb matchmaking talents!”

“Accidentally hospitalizing two people because you mispronounced _tarantallegra_ doesn’t count as match-making, Niall!” Zayn scoffed.

“Yeah, but they fell in love ‘cause of all that time they spent in the hospital wing together, didn’t they? Anyway, my _point_ is that we’ve got to let them find each other.”

“What?” Liam frowned. “You mean, not do anything at all?’

“I didn’t say that.” Niall corrected. “All we need to do is give a bit of prodding and pushing and they’ll fall right into each other’s arms.”

“Pushing and prodding, how, exactly...?”

“Well,” The Hufflepuff boy grinned, “It’d be a shame if we were all to make plans to get together and just as we sat down Liam remembered he had promised to meet professor Binns for extra lessons, Zayn remembered he was late for detention, and I remembered I had forgotten my entire uniform, wouldn’t it?”

“Alright, why am _I_ the one in detention?”

“ _That’s_ the thing you choose to focus on? Really, Zayn?”

“Fine, what’s your point?”

“My point is, assuming everything went according to plan and we were able to slip away, Harry and Louis would be left alone with a couple of hours to kill.” Niall waggled his eyebrows, adding, “Or to kiss, ideally.”

“You know, for someone who looks so cherubic, you can be quite devious, Niall.” Liam said thoughtfully.

“Thank you, Liam. Glad to know _someone_ appreciates my talents.”

“I mean, it’s not a _bad_ idea…” Zayn admitted reluctantly, ignoring Niall’s jab. “It could work.”

“So it’s settled, then?” Niall looked back and forth between the boys with gleaming eyes, rubbing his sticky hands together gleefully. “Operation Niall Is A Beast is in motion.”

Zayn held up . “I’m willing to participate in this scheme but I’m _not_ calling it that.”

“Can we compromise on Operation Hufflepuffs Rule?”

“No.”

“Fine, you twat. Operation Veela then, because every time Louis so much as glances as Harry the kid acts like he’s been hit with lightning.”

Zayn laughed, finally nodding. “That’s one I’m willing to settle on.”

“Operation Veela it is.”

The issue finally addressed, the conversation drifted to the merits of muggle superhero names, and that was that.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been less than 12 hours...here's chapter 2. 
> 
> -Clodagh xx

Operation Veela commenced the very next morning in the Great Hall, all three boys sharing secretive glances as they sat down to breakfast at their respective tables.

The plan was simple: invite each boy to hang out as a group, then jump ship as soon as they arrived, leaving the boys on an impromptu date. Really, how hard could it be to get the two within three feet of each other?

"Hey, Louis." Zayn asked, prodding Louis’s side as the boy wolfed down his rashers. "D'you want to go play a round of exploding snap with some of the lads? I heard Niall and Liam’ve got the usual wager between them.”

Louis shook his head regretfully as he extracted himself from the bench. As usual, he had no regard for personal space and used Oli's head as leverage to pull himself to his feet, receiving a scowl from the ginger boy in the process. "'Fraid I can't, Zaynie. As much as I’d love to see the loser chug an entire flask of firewhiskey, I've got Quidditch practice in about..." He peeked at his watch and cursed. "...two minutes ago. Captain of the year, I am."

He snatched a slice of buttered toast from Jesy's plate and stuffed it in his mouth, ignoring her feeble protests.

"Fee oo lay-er," he garbled, taking off in a full sprint through the Great Hall. Zayn sighed as he watched Louis' quickly retreating form, running a hand through his hair. So much for that plan. A glance at the Gryffindor table told him that Liam had had similar luck.

"No, Liam, I'm serious." Harry was arguing, shaking his head at Liam's pleading eyes. "I've got Arithmancy homework to get started on!" Judging by the density of Harry's bag, it seemed as though he was headed straight for the library with no intention of leaving for the foreseeable future. Zayn and Liam exchanged exasperated looks as Harry ignored Liam's protests and left the table.

They would have to try again. However, the next two weeks proceeded exactly the same way, much to the boys' dismay. Each time Liam and Zayn attempted to push the oblivious boys together, they were met with obstacles. Their schedules outside of school hours couldn't have been more incompatible. When they weren't in class, Louis spent his time shooting through the air on the quidditch pitch while Harry holed himself up in the library, buried in schoolwork.

At least Harry could be found in the library _most_ of the time. Zayn thought he'd finally caught a lucky break when Louis announced happily during breakfast that quidditch practice had been cancelled. He immediately sent Liam off to search for Harry, both ready to lock the two boys in a broom cupboard if that’s what it came down to. To their dismay, even this attempt was foiled, as Liam jogged back into the Great Hall almost an hour later sans one curly haired Gryffindor.

"I can't find him," He panted, clutching the stitch in his side and collapsing onto the bench between Zayn and Niall. "He wasn't in the library, so I ran all over the school looking for him. He’s freaking nowhere."

Niall shook his head. “Doesn’t matter anyway, Louis’ already left for the owlery.”

Both Liam and Zayn groaned.

"What I wouldn't give for Potter's Marauder's Map," Zayn said bitterly. “Trying to get those boys together is like catching pixies; as soon as you’ve got one, the other’s flown off already.”

“Have much experience with pixie hunting, do you Zayn?”

“Shut up, Niall.”

Liam sighed, stealing a chip off Zayn’s plate. “Might as well go play Exploding Snap anyway.”

Zayn nodded, automatically pushing the rest of his chips towards Liam. “Yeah, I’m game. Niall, up for it?”

When he was met with silence, they looked over at Niall, who was studying them curiously.

He blinked as he registered the question. “Oh! Yeah, no, I can’t I’ve got, uh... homework to do.”

“ _Homework_?”

He ignored Liam’s incredulous tone, instead choosing that moment to stand up and swing his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you lads later.”

The blond boy clapped them both on the back and jogged off.

“Niall? Homework?” Liam repeated, looking at Zayn with disbelief. “Is he alright?”

Zayn shrugged, squinting at Niall’s retreating form. “He’s always been a bit odd.”

 

Despite the setbacks, they didn’t abandon their plan. Liam and Zayn pushed and pulled and prodded at the situation, hoping to get Louis and Harry alone together, but after two weeks of continuous failure they were about ready to give up. The whole thing might have been for nothing if Niall hadn't taken matters into his own hands.

 

*

 

“...simple really, nothing to it!”

Professor Longbottom snapped on his gloves enthusiastically, somehow still energetic after spending almost 20 minutes explaining how to effectively extract a snargaluff pod.

“Right, okay, everybody partner up and start working!”

The class rumbled as everyone began to shuffle over to their friends, trying partner up so they could grab the cleanest workstation. Harry turned to Liam out of habit, but to his dismay, he realized that his friend and Zayn had already settled into a workstation.

"Hey!" He whined, crossing his arms. "Who am _I_ gonna partner with?"

"Sorry, Styles," Zayn smirked, beginning to poke his wand at the oozing bulb. “I was here first.”

Harry huffed and turned back towards the class to search for a partner, but glancing around the greenhouse, he realized everybody was already paired up. He eyed the stationary Snargaluff stump warily, well aware of how quickly the plant's roots could become vicious if provoked. There was no way he would be able to wrangle the task on his own.

"Professor Longbottom," He called out, "I haven't got a—"

The glass door slammed open at an alarming speed, and a disheveled looking Louis stumbled into the greenhouse. "Sorry," he panted, jerking to a halt. "Sorry I'm late."

He looked expectantly towards Professor Longbottom, who simply waved him away as his attention was captured by a Mimbulus Mibletonia excreting glossy black ink all over Perrie’s blonde hair. "It's alright, Tomlinson, just go find a partner."

For a few moments, Harry watched Louis survey the room, taking in the boy’s disheveled appearance and subsequently marveling at his ability to remain gorgeous even when he’d clearly put no effort into looking presentable.

Harry had to spend ages wrangling his mess of curls each morning to look somewhat presentable, but Louis' scruffy bedhead simply came off as endearing. His emerald tie was haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and the protruding seam of his grey sweater revealed that it was inside out. Harry thought the presentation of his ensemble was almost similar to  Louis himself: present, but with an element of urgency, like how Louis could pay rapt attention to one thing, blue eyes sparkling in excitement, yet one look behind the glint of those eyes revealed just how quickly his mind was whirring onto the next topic.

However, the butterflies that had begun to flutter pleasantly in Harry’s stomach froze abruptly when Louis' eyes landed on his empty workstation, and Harry realized with a jolt that he was going to have to be Louis' partner. Though he was suddenly finding it much more difficult to breathe, he gave himself credit for not passing out right there on the spot.

He turned to Liam with wide eyes, attempting to send a telepathic plea for help, but Liam just grinned and threw him a subtle thumbs up. Harry was on his own. He took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the deities above, and shuffled over to where the lone Slytherin stood.

 _Be cool_ , he instructed himself as he approached Louis. _Don't be an idiot_ . _Don't be—_

He proceeded to stumble over his own bag and tumbled into the nearest table, sending a collection of glass bottles teetering against the rickety wooden surface. He watched, horrified, as an open vial of dittany pitched straight into Louis' chest. There was a horrible, silent moment as they both stood there, open-mouthed, staring at the dittany trickling down the front of Louis' inverted sweater.

"Oops."

Louis' eyes flew up when Harry spoke, a cheeky grin suddenly replacing his startled expression. "Hi."

Words, Harry thought vaguely, feeling himself gape embarrassingly at the blue-eyed boy in front of him. Normal people used words to communicate. Especially when they've just spilled something all over the other person's sweater.

"I...I'm so sorry." He said, glancing down at the darkening patch spreading across Louis' sweater. "Here, let me fix it." Harry hadn't exactly expected Louis to object, but he certainly wasn't anticipating when instead, Louis spread his arms dramatically, baring his chest, and demanded, "Mend me," with an assumed authority only he possessed.

Surprised, Harry raised his wand and aimed at the stain. Praying that he wouldn't accidentally set fire to Louis' sweater, he whipped his wand in an S-shape. _"Scourgify!"_

To his relief, the charm worked as intended and the spot vanished, along with bit of dirt caked on the hem. Louis inspected his now clean sweater and nodded in satisfaction. "That sweater was looking a bit dingy anyway."

He looked at Harry expectantly. "So, is there any particular reason you came over or did you just have a sudden urge to toss dittany on the nearest bloke available?"

Harry flushed, even more intimidated by the prospect of spending an extended length of time with Louis now after he'd made such a fool of himself. He braced himself, and simply allowed the words to spill out. "D'you..." Harry stammered, "d'you maybe want to be partners?" He wrung his hands, looking anywhere but Louis. "I mean, everyone else is already paired up so I thought...but if you don't...I mean, I practically just assaulted you, you don't have to—"

Louis just laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't hurt yourself, Curly."

Harry flushed at the nickname, his senses going into hyperdrive as he felt Louis' finger brush his neck, and he prayed that the other boy couldn't feel the quickening of his pulse under his touch. "I'd love to be your partner. I have to warn you though, I’m a menace at herbology so you’ll have to be patient with me."

"Right. Um...okay then." Harry began to explain the process of extracting the pods from the Snargaluff in front of them, at least what little he could remember from Professor Longbottom's instructions. It was a rather menacing looking stump, with dark gnarled roots buried deep in the potted soil, but it was nothing compared to the prospect of having to maintain a conversation with Louis. Harry had been told he was charming, but all grace was lost when it came to Louis and his quick wit. He tried to relay the instructions, determinedly focusing his eyes on the stump and only glancing up at Louis when he decided it was absolutely necessary.

"And then you slice..." Harry paused when he noticed Louis staring at him with an odd look on his face.

"What?" Harry asked worriedly, wondering in a panic if he had jam on his chin or something equally embarrassing. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

"Nothing." Louis said quickly, averting his gaze in a very un-Louis manner. Harry had yet to see Louis look abashed or embarrassed even. "You're just really good at this stuff."

"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged modestly, feeling his cheeks heat at the compliment. "My competence at extracting Snargaluff pods will definitely give me points on the dating scene."

Louis barked out a surprised laugh, and Harry couldn't help the pleased grin that spread across his face. He, Harry Styles, had made Louis laugh.

"Hey, who knows, Harry?" Louis asked with a cheeky grin. "Girls like a man who’s good with his hands.”

Harry was too pleased that he was actually conversing with Louis to correct him and inform him that he really didn't care about what girls liked.

"But honestly, it's really cool that you know what you're doing," Louis continued, bravely poking his finger into a dark crevice of the stump. "In all your classes, really. I won't lie, when I see your work getting passed back with those top marks I get a bit jealous."

"Says the quidditch captain." Harry pointed out, both unsure of how to react the the information that the Slytherin boy was more aware of his presence than he had assumed and desperate to see the crease between Louis' eyebrows disappear. "I've seen you play, and I'm definitely the one who should be jealous here. You're amazing."

Louis ducked his head, hiding his bashful smile by leaning over and tugging a loose pod from the Snargaluff stump. "I'm alright. I love the game, really." He looked up at Harry hopefully. "Do you play?"

"I'm actually shit at quidditch." Harry confessed. "I can't fly to save my life."

Louis' jaw dropped in outrage. "What do you mean you can't fly?

Harry snorted. "Your stained robes can attest to the fact that I can't even walk upright without tripping over myself. What makes you think I'd last three seconds off the ground?"

Louis only shook his head. "If you let me get you on the pitch, we'll make a quidditch player out of you yet." He said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder and promptly dropping a particularly pointy Snargaluff pod on foot. "Shit!" He immediately hunched over and grasped his foot, his face scrunched up in pain.

"Ouch, oh fuck, that hurts."

Harry worriedly followed Louis' gaze to the ground, and squinted in confusion. "Louis, why haven't you got your shoes on?"

Louis released his grip on his left foot and looked down sadly at his slightly dirty bare feet.

"I went to put on me trainers today," he explained, gently rubbing the fresh red welt between his toes. "And I realized that some wanker had charmed socks into every single pair of shoes in my trunk."

He stared at Harry with eyes wide with betrayed disbelief, as if he expected Harry to be equally devastated. Harry squinted at him. "Hang on, you aren't wearing shoes at all because you don't want to wear socks?"

"Socks are for the weak, Harry," Louis said, lifting his foot in the air and flexing his toes proudly. He froze, foot in midair, his face lighting up. "You should take yours off too. Live on the wild side.”

He looked at Harry expectantly. “Go on then!”

Harry cringed internally. While he considered himself a relatively hygienic person, his feet weren't exactly pretty sight, and they probably didn't smell much better than the rancid mushrooms over in the corner of the greenhouse. The last thing Harry needed was for Louis to catch a whiff of his feet and sprint gagging out of the class. But Harry was putty in the hands of the barefooted Slytherin. Louis' expectant blue eyes bore into his, and against his better judgment Harry grudgingly tugged his shoes and socks off.

"There,” Louis nodded with satisfaction. “Don't you feel liberated, Harold?"

Harry stared down at his bare feet for a moment before lifting his head to look at Louis with raised eyebrows. They blinked at each other, neither speaking, when the corner of Louis' mouth twitched upwards and they both burst into peals of laughter.

Across the room, Liam and Zayn exchanged knowing looks and fist bumped each other under the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm a slut for oops/hi.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr, come say hello!: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/godblessnhoran  
> (I'm on twitter too, if that's more your thing: @godblessnhoran)
> 
> I love ALL feedback, (compliments AND criticism) so let me know what you think!  
> Thanks for reading xx


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